Crescendo
by Firestar9mm
Summary: What happened in between "Pretty in White" and "Seven Letters"? For starters, this.


**Author's Introduction:**

The usual disclaimer:_ Yes, I am aware of the fact that the Ronin have lives and homes outside of Toyama and Mia's house. But as I always say, it's not a story without all the characters together, and I like to write these pieces as little slices of time when everyone's "home" together. So I am not ignorant of the canon; it's just fun to write stories about everyone together. Thank you._

Was chatting over nifty PM system with another Ronin fan, **emeraldteardrops** (go read _Grounded_! That one's my favorite) and she presented me with a wonderful challenge in regard to my own fics: what happened in between _Pretty in White _and _Seven Letters_? In _Pretty in White_, Sage and Mia are flirting, they are enjoying each other's company. In _Seven Letters_, they are already together. So what happened in between?

According to Sage and Mia, this:

* * *

**Crescendo**

_A Ronin Warriors fic by Firestar9mm, taking place in between "Pretty in White" and "Seven Letters"

* * *

_

_Cause when I am with you, you're the crescendo  
__To the melody, that melody I love_

(Esthero, _Everyday is a Holiday (With You)_)

* * *

"Say yes," Mia Koji begged breathlessly, chest heaving, a blush staining her pale cheek. 

"_Accept what charges_?" a young boy's voice wondered in response to her statement. "_I don't understand. Maybe I should ask someone first._"

"Say _yes_, Ully!" Mia insisted, louder and more desperately.

Unfortunately for Mia, she was breathless because she was upset. Her chest was heaving from the strain of holding back the tears, and she was blushing because this was all so terribly humiliating. Not quite the romantic picture she had imagined in anticipation of this evening.

"_Mia? Is that you?_" the boy asked.

Mia closed her eyes and tried to count silently to ten, but she cut it off at five because she didn't want to tarry too long on the phone. She had a feeling long calls weren't encouraged in this place.

Ever since the day she'd leapt to shield him from an armored Dynasty soldier's attack, Mia had happily counted Ully, the small boy she and the Ronin Warriors had befriended during the Dynasty Wars, as one of "her boys", even if he didn't visit as often as her older "boys" did. She had nothing but smiles and attention for the younger boy, treating him like the baby brother she'd never had…

…but sometimes, you just needed to talk to…well, a grown-up.

"Yes, Ully. Who's around? I need to talk to one of the guys." She chose her wording carefully, reasoning that saying "boys" might sound like she had meant to include the younger one, and he'd insist he could help her, when she really needed someone with a driver's license and a wallet who wouldn't blab about this to the nearest stranger, tiger, or Ronin Warrior.

"_Are you okay, Mia? You sound upset._" Ully's voice instantly dropped into concern for his "big sister". "_Is something wrong?_"

Despite how cute his worry for her was, Mia felt like screaming. As the conversation went on, she was twisting the metal phone cord in her free hand, the cold bite of it the only thing she could feel as the rest of her went numb with terror at the idea of being stranded here with no one to ride to the rescue. She was caught in a hideous cleft stick as she couldn't tell the younger boy what was really wrong, but she also couldn't seem to impress the urgency of the situation on him otherwise.

"I'm not hurt, Ully," she hedged, fighting to keep her voice light. She knew she must not alarm the boy. "I just really need to talk to one of the guys. Any of the guys. Who's around? Ryo, maybe, or Cye?"

"_Hold on,_" Ully said. "_A bunch of the guys went out to the movies a little while ago. It was an R-rated movie and I couldn't go, so me and White Blaze are staying here—he couldn't go either, they don't let tigers into movie theaters._"

A happy growl sounded somewhere near Ully's voice; White Blaze was saying hello. Ully was still on the line, having a conversation about movies with no one in particular; Mia was seriously considering asking to talk to the tiger. He'd have one of the guys here to help her in two seconds flat as soon as he heard she was in trouble. The big cat was incredibly smart and on more than one occasion had demonstrated that he could understand exactly what they were saying. She wondered if screaming to him to get help would expedite this any.

"_I think one or two of the guys might still be around,_" Ully finally said. "_I'll go check_."

"Hurry, Ully, please," Mia said. "This is sort of important." _Sort of_ would have normally been a massive understatement, if Mia and her friends didn't spend a significant amount of time fending off demonic warlords from another realm. But if she said _really important,_ Ully might think that demon hordes, possessed animals, and armored jerks by the thousands were poised at the edge of the city prepared to descend upon their heads and wreak havoc, so she had to settle for a less urgent modifier. _Sort of important _it was.

Ully seemed to have finally understood; in a softer voice he promised, "_It's going to be okay, Mia. Hang on, I'll be right back with one of the guys._"

Her breath trickled outward in a sigh of relief, and some of the tense, tight pain in her chest lessened. She made a mental note to drop a kiss on Ully's brow and sneak the boy some extra cookies when she got home.

If she ever got home.

There was a soft _clunk_ as Ully put the phone down on the endtable she knew he was standing at, and then the sound of pounding footsteps as he ran off. Left hanging on the other line to wait, Mia began to wonder which of the boys, if any, were available to take her call, and what they would say when they heard what she needed. She was crossing her fingers for Ryo. Ryo would come racing to her rescue without asking any questions, and only slightly less importantly, he wouldn't tease her about it. Kento, while coming to her aid just as quickly, wouldn't let her hear the end of this one for a _long _time. Neither would Rowen. In fact, the Ronin of Strata would be a lot more subtle in his mockery—and it would go on for weeks after Kento would have lost interest.

A snuffling sound came over the line. White Blaze was still there, waiting with her. Mia felt a sudden, fierce urge to hug the tiger around his neck and just cry the events of the day away in his thick fur. "White Blaze," she murmured, and an answering growl came over the line. He was there; even if he couldn't say something comforting back, the sound was enough.

More footsteps sounded closer and closer to the phone—the quick pattering of smaller feet leading the calmer stride of a taller boy. "_She's on the phone,_" Ully was explaining to whomever he had found. "_I think she's in trouble!_"

Panic sang suddenly through Mia's veins at having to face the music and explain her predicament to whoever was picking up the phone. _Let it be Ryo_, she begged silently. _Or Cye. Most importantly, __**don't**__ let it be—_

"_Mia?_" The voice was deep, pleasantly masculine and completely unmistakable "_What's going on? What's the matter?_"

Mia cringed. "Sage."

"_Where are you_?" he asked calmly. Mia pictured him standing near the endtable, leaning one strong shoulder against the wall, his lashes drooping lazily over his violet eyes as he held the phone to his ear.

Mia squinted, as if by doing so she could block out his reaction to her answer. "…Jail."

There was silence on the line.

She couldn't bear repeating it, so she just waited, even though every nerve was desperate to call his name and prove that he was still on the other end of the line. She'd die if he hung up and left her alone.

But she should have known him better than that. Sage was just letting the information sink in; after a few seconds he spoke.

"_Say **what**_?"

Mia frowned, her eyes narrowing to slits. "You heard me."

Another few seconds of silence, and then a kindly chuckle. "_Very funny, Mia. Is Rowen with you?_"

His laughter, however soft and gentle it was, sent Mia past her own point of balance. Despite her best efforts to sound normal, her voice cracked when she answered him. "Sage, I need you to come get me. Please?"

"_You're serious_," Sage realized. "_Mia…what **happened**_?"

"I'll explain later," she said hurriedly. "Can you come get me?"

All her misgivings about having Sage answer the phone melted away at his immediate response. "_Don't worry, Mia. I'm on my way._"

Mia's lungs nearly collapsed in relief. "My _hero_. Oh, Sage, _thank y_—"

He had already hung up. The dial tone buzzed in her ear, but instead of the abandonment she'd dreaded, the sound was oddly comforting, promising that Sage would be there soon.

* * *

Not then or ever would Mia be able to accurately tell how long she waited for Sage to arrive. It felt like forever. 

After they'd brought her down to the station, she'd had to go through the humiliating process of being photographed and fingerprinted. The sergeant had pushed her fingers roughly down on the inkpad, then pressed them so hard against her booking form that she'd expected to see imprints of her bones when he'd lifted her hand.

The mug shots had been equally upsetting. She'd had to resist a sudden, very unladylike urge to flip her middle finger at the camera, but it wouldn't have done to dig her own grave before she was even through booking. Hell, she was already halfway to China at this point and still throwing dirt in the air.

After the nightmare booking process was over, they'd let her make her phone call. Once she'd hung up, they'd pinioned her hands behind her once more and escorted her to the holding cell. She'd been looking forward to a little peace and quiet, till she heard one of the officers tell another to "shove her in the cage with the others".

The "cage"—the officer's pet name for the holding cell—was an apt description. It was seventy-five percent of a corridor at the back of the precinct, cordoned off by metal bars. It was dingy, lit by bulbs that hung naked beneath large metal shades that dangled from the ceiling, and the women inside it all looked a little…_off_, their eyes tracking the new arrival with the feverish, slightly insane light of the institutionalized.

As soon as the bars rattled shut behind her, Mia was instructed by the officer to turn around and extend her hands through the them so he could uncuff her without fear of reprisal—as if she'd been _anything_ but cooperative since she'd gotten here. He sounded slightly bored as he told her what to do and informed her that any pleas of innocence would be ignored, as if he had given this speech far too many times. Mia fought an urge to rub her wrists as soon as the cuffs were off.

It took every ounce of strength she had not to press her back against the bars when she saw her new surroundings, but she was determined not to show weakness; she reminded herself firmly that help was on the way, and that she was no pushover.

_I've been in much worse situations than this_, she reminded herself. _I was thrown into a Trinitron screen, and into an active volcano; I was frozen in a waterfall_…

Unfortunately, it didn't help much. The other inmates of the cell were frightening her—not because any of them had made a move towards her or done anything overtly threatening, but because the very look of them upset her.

The girl sitting on the bench looked very comfortable. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back with just a hint of curl. Mia guessed it was probably a wig—the way it caught the overhead lights and bounced them back almost painfully was a trick only synthetic hair could pull off. Coupled with the sparkling minidress she was wearing, she looked like a shimmering party favor, perched on the bench with one shapely leg crossed over the other, revealing the top of a sheer thigh-high stocking and the strap of a garter.

Her eyelashes were most likely false as well; they swept up and down like fans under a thick dusting of Pearl Mono 05 shadow as she considered her manicured fingernails. Her plumped lips, painted in Rouge Dior, pursed and twisted as if this were all just a total inconvenience. One stiletto heel wiggled as she fiddled with her foot idly, waiting for it all to be over. She'd been in this cell before, and would be in it again, and she'd long ago come to terms with all of that.

The girl in the back had staked out a prime spot in the cell—she was wedged in a corner, where she could see the entire room and there was no chance of anyone getting behind her. Her matted hair was a rainbow of fading dyes—her roots were coming in thick and dark over older shades of pink and purple. Her dark gaze bounced back and forth constantly, although none of the other inmates of the cell had made a move since Mia had come in. The girl's eyes were filigreed red around the irises, a ring of darker irritation circling them that would never be soothed by medical help or a good night's sleep. Her long striped sleeves hung loose over her thin arms, which she'd strapped around herself. Every so often, one bony hand would edge the thin sleeve up, scratching at her skin with filthy fingernails.

Somehow, looking at her, Mia knew the girl hadn't used her one phone call. Her hair had had a lot of time to grow out under all that dye—she hadn't been to a salon in a long time. Her clothes were ratty, dirty in places, but she had a lot to layer. She was protecting herself against the spring chill, and she was probably wearing everything she owned to do it. She'd been pretty once, but the web of veins in her eyes and the meth scars on her face and arms were erasing that, and fast. She had no one to call for bail. Not anymore.

Mia turned away from the street kid to the cell's final inhabitant, who was standing as far away from both the other inmates as she could without being in arm's reach of anyone who approached the bars from the other side. One elbow was propped on her other arm, which was belted across her middle. She chewed the broken nails on the raised hand idly, uncaring that the hand was covered in blood, drying in splotches down her arm and darkening on the collar and down the front of her t-shirt. That didn't scare Mia half as much as the black bruise ringing the woman's eye, or the blood bruise that darkened her swelling lower lip. Her eyes were distant. This cell was hardly the worst thing that had happened to her this night.

Mia twisted her fox-colored hair into a long tail, then let it spin free over her shoulders, a nervous habit she'd had ever since high school. She imagined what she must look like. In the poor lighting, her black miniskirt seemed too dark over her sheer black stockings, and the scuff on the toe of her right kitten-heel pump seemed more pronounced than ever. The draped front panel of her fitted corset top seemed to droop as if the fabric was just as tired as she was; the laces in the back had all come untied at the bottom and begun dangling loosely sometime during the booking process, so she was lucky it was the concealed side zipper and not the ties that was holding the outfit together. Instead of feeling sexy and flirty as she had seven hours ago, she felt like a schoolgirl trying to play dress-up, someone silly and laughable. She wondered what her cellmates thought when they looked at her.

What Sage would think when he saw her.

Biting down on all the exhaustion and distress that was threatening to force its way audibly out of her throat, Mia sat down on the bench to wait, joining the battered woman in staring at the wall, feeling the memories of lava and ice play over her skin again. Although closing her eyes made her nerves tighten and her skin prickle with nervousness, she let them close and tried to distract herself from her current surroundings with her favorite trick to dispel fear—remembering the poem that had brought her the best thing that had ever happened to her.

_One drinking strength_, she thought, _from immortal fire. Darkest…_

Her eyes came open and her heart thudded sickly in her chest. She tried again.

_Darkest prison…_

The room seemed to flicker in and out of focus.

_Darkest prison sheds the…_

_Darkest prison sheds…_

That was as far as she got. She abandoned the poem and concentrated on the only thing that had kept her from screaming since she'd hung up the phone. Sage was on his way. He'd get her out of this.

He always did.

* * *

"Pretty nails." 

Mia had in fact been staring at them when the voice spoke at her side. Glancing to her right, she noticed that the blonde party favor had edged a little bit closer to her, trying to see better but still keeping a respectful distance.

Mia glanced at her and for the first time realized that they were about the same age.

"I love French nails," the blonde continued in an accent almost as distinctive as Rowen's. As she spoke, she extended her own fingers, either to show Mia or to examine her own rather scrotty nail varnish. "I c'n neva get mine t'look that nice."

For the first time since she'd been in the cell, Mia felt her lips curve in the barest ghost of a smile. "Too bad they took my purse. I've got the polish in it. I could have fixed them for you."

The girl laughed. "Honey, it's a holdin' cell, not a slumbah party." She looked back down at Mia's hands. "They came out nice."

Mia smiled ruefully down at her hands. "Thanks. I had a date tonight."

The girl snorted. "Me, too." She jerked a thumb towards the metal bars. "John, my date? He's th' guy who yanked my ass in heah."

Mia forced her eyes back down to her French tips. Her chest was tight and fluttery with a hysterical urge to laugh, and somehow she had the feeling that wouldn't be polite, especially given her own circumstances. But before she could worry too much about it, another voice brought her attention up from her hands.

"Mia?"

Hardly daring to hope, she blinked at the familiar figure standing beyond the bars, his smile daybreak to her weary senses.

Mia felt her heart swell in her chest. Sage was not wearing armor tonight; his grey button-down was immaculately pressed and open over a dark t-shirt and his jeans were that wonderful dark shade of blue that never lasts, but it was not mystical armor. He carried no sword and stood completely at ease beside the armed guard who had escorted him to the cell despite the gun holstered at the guard's hip. He'd pulled her out of a frozen waterfall. He'd rescued her from high falls, armored guards, and possessed animals, fighting like a demon to keep her safe.

But somehow, she'd never been happier to see him than she was right now.

"Hello, handsome," she said softly, rising to meet him, her fingers twisting around the bars to touch the hands he raised to her. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes."

"Sorry I took so long getting here," he said, treating her to a smile, blond forelocks falling over one pale eye. "I had a little trouble convincing Ully that I needed him and White Blaze to stay and 'guard the house'."

Mia smiled back. The old "guard the house" excuse wasn't going to work on Ully forever, even with the tiger's help, but she was relieved that Sage had been tactful with the little boy, and grateful that he'd hurried to her rescue. His fingers slid between hers as she offered them through the bars, and then he was forced to step back to let the guard unlock the cell door.

"They're dropping the charge on you, Koji," the guard informed her, at which Sage's smile brightened ever so slightly. "Get out of here."

Mia had to hold her breath to stop it from shuddering out in untrammeled relief. She looked the question at Sage, but he said nothing, only waited patiently for her to be let out of the cell.

The keys seemed to jangle the guard's impatience with her, his breath muttering outward, completely unimpressed by the touching moment. It took every ounce of strength that Mia had not to collapse against Sage and nuzzle into his shoulder till he had to carry her out. His arm circling her protectively, one hand tucked under her elbow, made it easier to walk out under her own power. She heard the garrulous blond in the cell having a conversation with no one in particular as they exited the corridor.

"Y'know, whoever it wuz says that blondes have more fun, he was full o'crap, y'know? It's the _redheads_, the redheads that get all th' attention, man. Redheads with French nails."

"Come on," Sage said, sensing Mia's discomfort; the arm encircling her waist gave her a comforting squeeze. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Normally, Mia didn't like being treated like a damsel in distress, even when she was actually in distress. But all the adrenaline had ebbed out of her veins by the time Sage had walked her to the car, and she felt as though she had no bones left. When they reached the side street where he'd parked the Jeep, she allowed him to unlock and open the passenger's-side door for her and nodded her thanks. As he circled the car to the driver's side, she leaned across to unlock the driver's-side door before buckling her seat belt. It did not escape his notice; she was rewarded with a smile as he got into the car. 

That sort of behavior was typical of Sage; he was a gentleman, courteous to a fault. But he went overboard when he was concerned about her, and she began to suspect he was babying her when he put on the radio, fingers spinning the dial until he settled on one of her favorite stations. He'd never expressed an interest in popular music and often got annoyed when Kento or Ryo put their records on too loud.

They hadn't spoken since they'd gotten into the car, mostly because Mia hadn't initiated conversation. Sage could be very talkative once you got on a subject that interested him, but it wasn't his nature to speak first. He seemed perfectly content to shift gears, spin the steering wheel and try his best to ignore the pop music he despised filtering through the speakers.

There was never a question as to which one of them would break first. It happened at a red light. The Jeep was the only car at the intersection, and the _click-click-click_ of the turn signal seemed abnormally loud in the enclosed space, the music soft beneath it. _I'll never hold what could've been on a cold and lonely night…_

"Well?" she asked, turning to him, her voice abrasive against the cozy quiet "Aren't you going to ask me what happened?"

Sage glanced at her, his smile so calm that it maddened her. "Well, I wasn't going to, but after seeing what you've been up to tonight I figure this explanation's got to be a winner."

She narrowed her eyes. "If you hadn't saved me tonight, I would kick you right now."

Sage laughed. The light turned green, and he shifted gears, spurring the Jeep forward through the empty intersection.

…_linger in the air, like the faded scent of your roses, they stay with me…_

Mia glanced out the window, fighting to see the city streets through the pale superimposition of her reflection.

"Mia." Sage's voice brought her attention back to him, quietly and without force, just like always. "You don't _have_ to tell me."

The pale, sad eyes of the reflection softened. She knew that she didn't have to tell him. Indeed, none of the guys had ever forced her to do anything—which was why she had found the strength to do anything they needed. If she had a choice, she could do it.

She turned back to the blond. "How much do you already _know_? They had to have told you something in order to let you attempt to post my bail." She fidgeted with one of her diamond earrings, which was starting to hurt her ear. "Why'd they drop the charge?"

"They ran your records," Sage explained. "You had no prior offenses, no history of solicitation, and the more time they spent on you the more obvious it was that a mistake had been made. I wouldn't want to be the arresting office when his captain hears how much time they wasted on you." The blond smirked.

His use of the word "solicitation" made her blush miserably—he had to have known what they'd brought her in for.

He noticed. "Tell me a story."

She blinked questioningly at him. "What?"

"Tell me a story," he repeated. "You're a good storyteller, Mia. Tell me a story about your evening."

Unable to help herself, she smiled through her blush. He knew her too well—if she was recounting the events of the night as if they were a legend in one of her grandfather's books, it would be easier, as if it had happened long ago, to someone else.

"Here, I'll even start it off for you," said Sage, a twinkle in his violet eyes. "_And the beautiful princess left to go out on her date, and she kissed the knights, the squire and the tiger goodbye._"

Mia blushed deeper at being called a "beautiful princess", smiling as she remembered saying goodbye to everyone, warning them that the house had better be standing when she got back. "The squire and the Knight of Hardrock were singing about kissing in a tree, if I remember correctly," she shot back.

Sage chuckled. "You know Ully. He'll sing anything he learns the words to for about three days before he loses interest." His expression stilled. "So what happened?"

She sat up a little straighter in her seat, adopting what Cye affectionately called her "guest-speaker expression". "His name was Shouhei. Remember that charity softball game I played for Shinsai?"

"You caught that pop fly in your cap in center field," Sage agreed, his voice amused. "Kento and Ryo were cheering like crazy."

"Right," Mia said. "Well, Shouhei played second base for the opposing university. He seemed nice, kind of shy."

"Mmhmm." Sage exaggerated the sound to indicate that this "character" bored him and punctuated this with an affected facial expression.

Mia frowned. "He asked me out, and I said yes." She sighed, fidgeting with the earring she'd removed. "I should have known something was wrong when he wanted to go to the movies. Movies are a _terrible_ first date."

For reasons best known to himself, this got Sage's attention. "What makes you say that?"

"Because," Mia said. "You can't _talk_ in a movie, or people shush you. You can't learn anything about the person. Movies are something you do after you've been dating a while and you actually want to pay attention to the _movie_, not to your date."

Sage seemed to like that. "Or when you're home with your friends, wearing your oldest jeans, and you order in take-out so everyone can share, and you watch something really campy and gory because you don't have to be on your best behavior."

Mia grinned. "It's Ryo's turn to pick next, isn't it? I liked _Lily C.A.T. _as much as the rest of you, but I'm getting tired of Rowen picking sci-fi movies."

"Next time you can pick." Sage smiled, but his expression soon stilled. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" she asked, still thinking about science fiction movies.

"That your date didn't want to pay attention to you." Sage's eyes flickered to the road.

"Oh." Mia snorted. "I _wish_. I'd have been better off if he'd paid _less _attention to me."

Sage arched a blond brow. "Oh?" he said. So skilled was the Warrior of Halo at communication that it only took one word to convey how displeased he was expecting to be at the rest of the story.

"After the movie, he suggested we go out for a drink, but I just wasn't feeling any chemistry between us," Mia continued. "I just told him that we should call it a night, that the movie was nothing special and there really wasn't any chemistry between us, so I was going to go home."

"Let me guess. He disagreed." Sage's voice dripped venom.

Mia laughed. "He tried to explain to me why I was wrong in a lecture that lasted past several green lights. I kept asking him to please just take me home, but he insisted that he was driving us to a nightclub and that I really, really needed to come out and party with him."

"How did you get him to stop?" Sage asked.

"Simple—I got out of the car at the first red light we stopped at," Mia said.

"What?" Sage tapped the brake reflexively. "That could have been dangerous!"

"Nah," she said, waving the idea away with one hand. "We were stopped and the light was red. I just called 'Thanks for everything!' and bolted across the intersection."

Sage's smile looked slightly proud. "What if he had chased you?"

"I knew he wasn't going to," Mia said. "He spent the whole drive to the movie theater going on and on about his precious Nissan. No way he was going to leave it alone in an intersection while he came after me."

Yes, his smile was definitely pleased. "So how does this story end with the beautiful princess being locked in a dungeon?"

Mia gritted her teeth, blushing hotly. "I am so _stupid_. I cut through an alley in case Shouhei circled the block looking for me, and there was a police car on the avenue. I thought I was in luck, so I walked over and knocked on his window. When the officer asked me what was wrong, I said that my date ended early and I needed a ride. The next thing I know, he's got me in handcuffs telling me I'm being arrested for prostitution."

Sage was politely trying not to laugh. "He took you out of context. It's not your fault. He didn't let you explain."

"I explained plenty in the squad car and in the police station, but no one seemed to care by that point," Mia huffed.

"They cared. Like I said, they dropped the charges. They just didn't want the department to end up with a black eye. Don't worry, there's nothing on your record," Sage promised.

"It's still embarrassing," she grumbled. "If you hadn't come, I'd still be wandering the streets." Struck by a sudden thought, she added, "You're wrong about the story, by the way."

"Oh?" He took his eyes off the road for the sparest of seconds to glance at her, brow arched over a twinkling eye. "How so?"

"It doesn't end in the dungeon," Mia clarified. "The beautiful princess called the Knight of Halo for help, and he came to rescue her. He always does."

Sage seemed to like that; the smile he slanted at her was as gentle as she'd ever seen it, impossibly kind. "He always will."

Mia turned her gaze shyly away, and the promise settled between them on the soft cushion of forgotten radio music.

_How can I hold what could've been on a cold and lonely night?..._

The Jeep stopped at another red light, and before Mia could think on what to say next, lights at the end of the street caught her eye. "Hey, pull in there!"

"What?" Sage asked, squinting to make out what she saw in the distance.

"Pull over," Mia insisted, putting her hands on the wheel as if she would guide the car herself. "Pull in there, okay?"

"_Mia_," Sage said, spinning the wheel and straightening the car, which had begun to jag to the right. "All right. All right, okay? Let go of the wheel. Where am I pulling into?"

* * *

"Mia," Sage said patiently ten minutes later. "You order the same thing every time. Why do you read the menu every time as if something's going to change?" 

"Because sometimes it _does_ change," Mia said pleasantly. "They brought back the McRib, didn't they?"

The Jeep was sitting in the drive-thru lane of a McDonald's, and a line of cars was steadily growing longer and longer behind them as Mia tried to make up her mind.

"_You can order whenever you're ready,_" the little speaker box squawked for the third time. The voice was unidentifiable as male or female.

"Okay, I'm ready," Mia said.

"Thank goodness," Sage muttered under his breath. "Can we make this quick? I hate yelling into these speaker boxes."

But instead of telling Sage what she wanted, Mia unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over so she could order herself. Sage was not expecting to have her suddenly in his lap; she didn't feel his barely controlled shudder as she braced her hands on him, one on his thigh and one against his chest, squirming as she was for a correct station of karma on his side of the car.

"Thanks for waiting!" she chirped brightly to the speaker box. "Okay, I want a twenty-piece pack of nuggets, and a Coke, please, and—" She turned to Sage, red hair swishing into his face and then out again as she tossed it aside. "What do you want?"

He blinked at her. "Nothing, thanks. Would you—" He caught her as she wobbled, keeping her steady. "Easy!"

She frowned at him, whipping her head back around so her hair was in his face again. "And a Quarter Pounder. You know what, make that a double Quarter Pounder. And fries, and two of those little apple pies that come in the boxes?"

Before Sage could protest, Mia crawled back to her side of the car and dimpled at him. "It's rude to let a lady eat alone," she trilled.

"_That'll be eighteen-sixty-five, ma'am. Drive up…PLEASE?_" the speaker box pleaded.

Mia beamed at Sage.

Unable to help himself, he shook his head and smiled. "Put your seat belt back on," was all he said as he pressed his foot down on the pedal. As they pulled up to the window, Mia dug in her purse for her wallet, but Sage waved the money she held out away.

* * *

"This," Sage declared twenty minutes later, "is _gross_." He punctuated the statement with another bite out of the double Quarter Pounder. 

Mia giggled, her mouth full of chicken nugget. "That's the third time you've said that, and you're still eating it."

"You were the one who said it would be rude to let a lady eat alone," he countered, reaching for a fry, which they'd propped up on the dashboard.

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full, too," she said, giggling again.

His response to this was to feather his fingers against her ribs, stealing a nugget when she squeaked and squirmed away.

It had been Mia's idea to park the car on a side street. When she'd encouraged Sage to imagine the reactions of the others if they showed up with fast food that wouldn't be enough to share, he agreed and within ten minutes had gotten into the spirit of the idea, pushing the driver's-side seat all the way back so he could stretch his legs and tearing into the cheeseburger he'd claimed not to want.

Mia played with the radio dial, spinning past a rent-to-own commercial, advertisements for the weekend TV lineup, something with a hard dance beat. Halfway through, Sage reached out and touched her wrist.

"Go back," he said. "Go back to that."

Mia turned the dial back slowly until she got to the last station's frequency. _I look in your eyes, just like the rain, rain wash over…_

Mia's incredulous look over a dropped chin asked the question.

Sage let his eyes drift to half-mast, appreciating the song for a second, then looked at her. "What?"

"_This _one?" Mia asked, still giving him that look.

"What?" he asked again. "Don't like Queensryche?"

"Do _you_?" she asked. "This from the guy who growls like a beast in a lair when Ryo plays his music too loud?"

Sage put on an affected look, as if she should have known better. "Ryo plays Loverboy. And everyone knows that Loverboy sucks."

Shaking her head slightly in wonder, Mia gave up and bit into another nugget, giggling. "How come I never knew you liked rock n'roll?" she asked.

"Do you really want to know?" Sage asked, relaxing against the driver's-side door so he could look at her properly.

She nodded.

"You never asked," he said simply.

Watching him calmly taking an apple pie out of its box, Mia realized that he was absolutely right.

* * *

After they'd thrown out the empty containers and wrappers, Sage got on the road again, happily tuning the radio to something with electric guitars now that he knew she didn't mind. But Mia remained quiet except for the sound of the mint she was chewing on, and for once he was the one to break first. 

"What's the matter?" he asked, cracking his own mint between his teeth. "You're so quiet. Was it something I said?"

"No," Mia said automatically, then changed her mind. "I mean, yes, actually. You're right—I never asked you what kind of music you like."

He chuckled. "That's okay."

"No," she protested. "No, it's not. I never ask you anything, and now I want to ask you _everything_, and I'm afraid to because…because you'll just think it's phony. Won't you?"

Sage laughed, glancing over at her. "I think the fact that you're worried about being phony eliminates any possibility of actually being phony. But if you're worried that you offended me by not asking me about myself, don't be. You didn't. Does that help?"

Thinking it over, she shook her head. "No, it doesn't. I don't want to ask because I think it would make up for some…social faux pas. I want to ask because…"

He chanced taking his eyes completely off her for a second to spear her with both eyes, one partially obscured by a few blond locks of hair.

She forced herself to give those eyes the bravery she owed them. "…because I really want to know," she finished honestly.

It was the answer he'd wanted; he rewarded her with a smile. "You can ask me anything you want."

A few more seconds of silence stretched out between them. "I can't think of where to begin," she admitted, a slight edge of nervousness to her voice.

Sage laughed again. "It doesn't have to be right _now_," he said. "No pressure, Professor Koji. There won't be a test at the end."

She shot him a squinchie with her eyes. "Ha, ha." Twisting her hands nervously in her lap, she sighed. "I just feel like I should make up for all this lost time…"

And just like always, the Warrior of Halo knew how to chase away all her fears. "What lost time?" he asked matter-of-factly. "We have time."

She liked that. "Okay," she said softly, her voice just above a whisper as she returned his smile.

* * *

He could tell by the landmarks that they were getting closer to the house. The windshield had become a panel of velvet dark studded with stars, and Sage was tempted to just keep driving, let the car take them wherever it would. But his companion's eyes were flickering. She was tired. It was an activity for another time. 

Another time. He liked the idea.

"Are you okay?" he asked aloud, getting Mia's attention. "Feel a little better?"

She smiled, and even though it was tired, it was sweet. "I feel a lot better," she said. "Thank you again. You really came through for me tonight."

"You never have to thank me for that," he told her. "Ever. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. But it was really nice of you to put up with me, and the fast-food and everything."

"Hey, I had fun," he assured her. "I'm just sorry your date turned out to be another jerk, that's all."

She laughed. "Well, I had no idea h…" She trailed off. "Wait a minute. What do you mean, _another_ jerk?"

Sage couldn't believe his own carelessness. "I'm—I'm just saying you date a lot of jerks, that's all."

All signs of fatigue left Mia as she sat bolt upright in her seat. "What do you know about the men I date?"

Sage wasn't about to let that one pass. "I spent the evening getting you out of jail!"

Mia sputtered for a second, then collapsed into laughter. "Okay, okay. My taste in men leaves a lot to be desired."

"That's _not_ what I said," Sage argued.

She dropped her chin again, giving him that look.

"Okay," he amended. "That's what I said, but it's not what I meant."

Mia decided to make that her first question. "What did you mean?"

"I meant…that you deserve someone better, that's all," he said, shifting gears almost violently to hide his embarrassment as he guided the car into the drive.

Mia smiled ruefully. "Don't you think I know that?" she asked. "I don't date jerks because it amuses me. I date jerks because there are a lot of very jerky men in the twenty-one-to-thirty age group."

Sage felt oddly helpless. "I'm…I'm sorry." He wanted to kick himself. It'd been going so well, and he'd taken it too far.

Mia turned the rueful smile down to her hands. "It started so well, you know? I was so excited to get ready…I made myself up, wondering if he'd want to kiss me goodnight. And half an hour into the date, I didn't even _want _him to anymore. And you know what?"

Sage had stopped the car by now and released his seat belt, but neither of them had made a move to get out. "No. What?" He cursed his voice for sounding so scratchy.

"When I was in the cell, I was so upset, but you know what hurt the worst? Being so disappointed, _again_. I'm _always_ disappointed. I mean, even when you don't know what you want…" She fidgeted, fingers knotting together and unlacing as she spoke. "…you still know what you _don't_ want, you know? And it hurts, to just keep having it shoved in your face again and again, that you don't have what you want. And you're afraid…"

"…that you might not ever have it." The words came unbidden, her thought finished on his lips.

She met his eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. "Yes."

He opened the door and got out of the car without another word. Mia made a confused sound, releasing her own seat belt, but before she could wonder what had gotten into him, he was at the other side of the car, opening her door and offering his hand to help her out of the car. Her smile was almost shy as she put her hand in his.

She giggled as he unlocked the door, moving aside to let her in ahead of him as was polite.

"What?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

"Nothing," she said. "I was just thinking that I still got a cute guy to walk me to my door at the end of the night." She smiled at him. "As bad dates go, this was the best one I've ever had."

He couldn't help smiling back. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek in his free hand, stroking his thumb over her skin. "Good night, Mia."

"Night," she whispered back.

She'd nearly gotten over the threshold when Sage changed his mind.

With the grace that colored his every move, he closed the door with one hand, catching her by the wrist with the other to pull her gently back to him. He had a second to feel her heartbeat hasten against his chest and see the surprise in her ocean eyes before he locked his mouth on hers, giving her the goodnight kiss he knew she deserved.

There was a split second where he feared he'd ruined everything, lost her beyond rescue—but then her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, fingers lacing around his neck as she kissed back, her questions becoming a collapse into his arms, the opening of her mouth to him.

"Good night, Sage," she whispered when he released her mouth, nuzzling into his shoulder.

Sage rested his cheek against her hair, letting his eyes drift closed. "Yes, it is."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Over the holidays, I worked long hours at a mall in addition to my day job, which explains the lull in my submissions as of late. In my store, we had to listen to a holiday compilation CD endlessly on repeat. As holiday CDs go, it wasn't half bad, but listening to anything on a loop can grate on your nerves. It got to the point where I could time how long my shift was running by gauging what song I had come in on and measuring it against the track listing, which, by then, I had memorized. I used to wait for **Esthero** to come on—I enjoy Esthero very much, and _**Everyday is a Holiday**_is a very cheerful, fun song. That one line above is what hooked me, made me think of Sage's artbook smiles waiting for me at home..._I'll say when I am with you, you're like a favorite song, and a melody, a melody I love, and it goes, la la la la la, la la la la la…_

A lot of fans complain about **Ully** (**Jun** in the Japanese canon.) I don't have a problem with him—indeed, I don't have a problem with _any_ of the ancillary characters in the series, which seems to mark me as a rarity among RW fans. Look, it's not Ully's fault. When you are eight years old, the world isn't much bigger than you and your mom and your dad (and the group of awesomely cool armored samurai you hang around with.) Who can blame the kid for whining about it? (ruffles Ully's hair.) Besides, let's not forget that without the Jewel of Life, the Ronin would have been toast and we'd _all_ be working for Talpa. One of my favorite things about RW as a series is that every single character has a very important part to play, and not a single one of them is disposable. Isn't that great?

_**Lily C.A.T.**_ is a 1987 anime sci-fi/horror movie, although I've yet to meet anyone besides myself who's ever seen it. The storyline is very similar to Ridley Scott's _Alien_, although not nearly as good. But it's scary enough and entertaining to watch on a dark rainy night.

In the car, Sage and Mia listen first to _**Could've Been **_by **Tiffany**, then _**Jet City Woman**_ by **Queensryche**. Everyone knows that **Loverboy** sucks.

I love writing Sage/Mia fics, and I love writing Ronin fics in general. What I've been working to do is make my Ronin fics _fun_—there's no shortage of angst in the Ronin ficverse, and while I love angsty, serious stories as much as the next goth, I love my boys and their friends and when you've got five boys, one girl, assorted other canon guys and girls, and a _tiger_, there's _bound_ to be fun somewhere! I also try to incorporate fun into my romantic stories. Romance doesn't have to be all boring stuff like red roses and expensive jewelry and all that crap. It can be fun, too.

Anyway, as most Ronin fans who know me know, Sage/Mia is my OTP. No one _ever_ has to twist my arm to write a Sage/Mia fic, and so I was delighted Emeraldteardrops had asked. I hope this hits the spot, my friend. (smiles)


End file.
